


Severus Snape and the Raven Clan

by Inkcentricity



Series: The Raven Clan [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 06:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14231631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkcentricity/pseuds/Inkcentricity
Summary: Severus Snape is sent to help negotiate an alliance between the Order of the Phoenix and the Raven Vampire Clan.Or he would have been if Harry Potter hadn't met them first ...  Why can't anything be simple?





	Severus Snape and the Raven Clan

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The World of Harry Potter is the creation and property of J. K. Rowling. This work is for entertainment only, I've never been able to persuade anyone to pay me to write.
> 
> Apologies to anyone who has already read my first (cough) paragraph from this planned series, it has now been re-numbered as part two and will continue as soon as I can get a grip on the geography of Imperial Rome.

It was the bloody Potter boy’s fault again. As usual. 

Make a plan. Stick to the plan. Easy.

Do one thing at a time. Manageable.

No. His life couldn’t work like that could it?

Severus Snape fumed as he strode through the Forbidden Forest in the gathering dusk. He was due at the boundary stone in forty-five minutes. Tonight, he was meant to be playing diplomat (of all things) with Lupin (of all people). He had spent the first part of the afternoon revising his notes for what he was certain would be an evening of terror and boredom in equal measure when all hell had broken loose.

Now, instead of being calm and finalizing his preparations, he was stumbling around in damp undergrowth looking for two missing children while ensuring that none of the forest’s legitimate residents managed to surprise him.

The high-and-almighty High Inquisitor demanding Veritaserum and threatening students (Potter, of course) had been bad enough. The barely concealed blethering to get him to contact Black and the Order in front of the Inquisitorial Squad was worse. Did any of those stupid children know the meaning of the word ‘spy’ or the concept of ‘discretion’?

Not that the spying thing was working out. He had never known what Albus was thinking there. As if the Dark Lord was quite stupid enough to take back someone who had sat in front of the Wizengamot and said. “Yes, I’m a Death Eater. I was spying on the Dark Lord for more than a year. I helped people escape him.”

Realistically, all he had achieved was a lot of pain for a few scraps of information that were common knowledge in the Hog’s Head or Knockturn Alley. There was better information to be had sneaking around lower ranking death eaters away from the Dark Lord than at the formal meetings.

It would all be moot after tonight anyway. From the information Dumbledore had provided, he and Lupin were going to ‘debate’ against two Death Eaters, competing for the vampires’ allegiance. It made sense given their culture but it would destroy his cover for good. He wasn’t sure how much damage the Dark Lord could do remotely through the mark, but he suspected he was going to find out.

The floo conversation with Black had been antagonistic (couldn’t risk not following up Potter’s delusions) although at least he had been at Grimmauld Place where he was supposed to be, but he was sure he would be hearing from Albus about the number of lies and threats he had deployed to get Black to promise to stay there rather than come to Hogwarts and interfere.

Just when it looked like the situation had been salvaged, a red-faced, terrified Neville Longbottom had tried to beat down his office door bleating something about Potter and Granger going into the Forbidden Forest with Umbridge.

Frustrated beyond measure, he has simply legilimised the boy to get the whole story. Morally dubious but justified as far as he was concerned. He spent the next twenty minutes rounding up the rest of the proposed Ministry raiding party and confining them to their common rooms with threats of expulsion before heading into the forest to retrieve the missing students. The DADA Professor, he sneered, could look after herself.

Forced from his internal rant by a fork in the path, he paused, and heard a very definite (and familiar) sound to the left. Ah yes, a defiant Potter in full flight. Joy.

Any feelings of relief were very short-lived when he started to comprehend what the idiot boy was shouting.

“Don’t worry, Hermione. They’re just a bunch of bargain-basement Dracula wannabes.”

“Harry, don’t you think you should be, you know, just a little bit politer?” Oh, for a wonder, Miss Granger sounded nervous.

“Why, we need to get going. I’ve got to rescue Snuffles and I’m not going to let these blood-sucking freaks stop me!” The boy was nigh on hysterical.

Severus extended his senses. The children are surrounded. Six, no eight individuals. Vampires most like, given where they are in the forest. Probably the vampires he is meant to be meeting later. Thank you, Potter. Need to make a job more challenging? Get the idiot-who-lived on the case. Guaranteed to upgrade any task from difficult to bloody impossible in the blink of an eye.

The vampires were spread out and moving constantly. Stun everyone, then try to revive the Gryffindors and escape? No, it would need to be a strong wide range stunner. Miss one vampire and end up dead, hit too hard and the Gryffindors would be killed or injured. Take them out individually? No, at least some of them would have telepathic links to each other. The chances of taking them down in the right order were non-existent, especially in the dusk and they would all be individually faster and stronger than he was. Apparate in and out? Maybe. In would work, but out? Side-along with two, probably struggling Gryffindors and where to apparate to? And if he got away with it, what would happen to the meeting tonight? No good options and no more time.

Negotiation it was then. So, what did he have to negotiate with? Precious little.

Then one of the vampires spoke and his heart sank further. “Arrogant little fool. You think you can trespass into our territory and walk away scot free? And appealing to our better nature after insulting us won’t get you far.”

The Granger girl at least tries to smooth things over. Albeit with an effect closer to pouring petrol on a bonfire than oil on troubled waters. “We’re really sorry about that. We’ve got lost, I’m afraid. But if you don’t want people to cross an invisible line, you really should put a sign up or build a wall, you know!”

Oh, for goodness sake. This couldn’t go on. The two idiots were going to get themselves killed. Not to mention sinking the negotiations for an alliance against the Dark Lord.

Marcus Corvus had stood quietly while his council deftly corralled the two young wizards. They had set off every alarm on the Western boundary and given he was expecting two difficult sets of guests tonight, the breach had been met with force.

Marcus had never become bored with life; a good thing as that tended to mark the beginning of the end for a vampire. Even after eighteen hundred years, people kept throwing new and interesting situations at him and he relished it. However, two ignorant, aggressive teenage magicals crashing around on one of the shortest nights of the year when there were much more serious schemes in play was not the welcome distraction it would have been on a dull winter’s evening.

He had no wish to deal with the Dark Lord and neutrality was becoming less and less of a protection. Dumbledore and Voldemort had both approached him for an alliance. Fortunately, this decision fell to the Clan Council, not to him. Both factions were sending him ambassadors. He grinned in amusement, suspecting none of the ambassadors had a clue what they were walking in to.

However, he would prefer an alliance against the Dark Lord and at the rate these children were going, neutrality would be the best outcome he could hope for. It wasn’t that vampires didn’t have a sense of humour but trespassing and name-calling hardly improved their opinion of wizards.

Suddenly, he caught a scent on the breeze. An adult wizard coming to join the fun. Oh, in the name of all the gods of the eternal city. This could get messy. Eventually, he managed to pick the new arrival out against the forest vegetation. Good concealment and he’d got past the outer ring of guards without being spotted.

Tall, slim and slightly hunched over; his tension denoted pain from an existing injury of some kind. No indications of violence yet. So, was he friend or foe to the young imbeciles?

Severus Snape, meanwhile, held his breath. He wasn’t sure if he had been spotted or not. He was surprised that he had managed to get this close unchallenged. He scanned the characters in the scene once more. Who was in charge? Was the Clan Chief here? Whoever was running this show would be doing it from the shadows. Not the one who had been speaking despite the fact that Potter and Granger were focusing on him so hard it hurt. Straining his eyes, he picked out a silhouette, a giant of a man, at least six and a half feet tall and solidly built. That was the most likely individual. Here goes nothing.

“Potter, Granger what the hell do you think you are playing at?” He barked.

“Professor Snape,” Granger jumps six inches in the air but sounds relieved. Brains yes, tact no. Maybe she will live long enough to learn.

“Snape, what’re you doing here? You need to save Padfoot. He’s trapped at the Ministry.” No brain, obsessive one-track mind. Good thing they only want him to do one thing in his life. Better make sure he gets the chance to do it.

“Enough, both of you. I’ve never heard such a pitiful display.” The vampires are standing still now. Amused but not giving ground. Two or three of them had jumped when he spoke. He suspects they will hear about that from the Chief later. The Chief has not moved. From that, Snape suspects that he had not arrived completely unnoticed. The man who spoke earlier starts to speak again but ends up stepping back suddenly. Snape caught the gesture, little more than a twitch, from the putative Chief in the periphery of his vision. Yes, definitely the Clan Chief, or at least the ranking council member on this hunting party.

“Potter, your dogfather is stuck at home, not the Ministry. I spoke to him an hour ago. If he cannot obey a simple request to stay there, there is nothing more you or I can do about it. As to your earlier insults, if you cannot do better than that, be quiet. A good insult is a valuable weapon, Mr. Potter, a teenage tantrum only injures the one that throws it.” Snickers in the darkness. They are giving their positions away but with the speed a vampire can move, it is meaningless.

“Miss Granger, one point to Gryffindor your attempt at diplomacy.” She has the temerity to look pleased. “And minus fifty points for your inability to see it through. Child, if you have not learnt better by now I am genuinely concerned.” She flushes with anger and embarrassment. “Tact and manners in such a situation as you have found yourself are not optional extras. Knowledge is not the same as understanding and you really must separate facts and opinion. A second year Slytherin would be ashamed of your effort. As for the border between the Forbidden Forest and the lands of the Raven Clan, are you not magical? You have more senses than sight. Can you not feel the bounds?”

She looks confused. “Do you not feel the charms woven into the forest boundary against your skin? they should have stopped you fifty feet from the border!” He really does wish that he could afford to hide his head in his hands, knock it against a tree, or, as he’s not feeling particularly masochistic tonight, just shake the child until she gets the point.

“Oh. That feeling that we should turn back, that’s marking the boundary?”

“Yes, stupid child.” He feels more amusement coming from behind his left shoulder but somehow doubts a good performance will get them out of this mess. “Now be silent both of you while I try to resolve the problems you have caused this evening.”

Potter actually dares to open his mouth. Fortunately, Granger elbows him repeatedly until he closes it again.

With one more glare for good measure, he turns his back on them only to realise that the Clan Chief has moved around to the right during the last exchange. Checking his occlumency shields and forcing himself to ignore the pounding of head and heart, he steps forward, moving straight towards the Chief. Stopping six feet away, he draws his wand. Careful to keep the tip directed unthreateningly at his feet. He can feel the vampires tensing around him and knows he is seconds from violence. Taking a deep breath, he sinks down onto one knee as gracefully as he can, planting the tip of his wand into the earth.

“My Lord, my name is Severus Snape, I am the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts School. I am sorry that these foolish children have transgressed against you and your clan. Alas, they are my responsibility. I apologise most humbly on their behalf and on behalf of Hogwarts School. Know they will be severely punished for their rudeness and stupidity, but they are still children. Please allow me to return them to the safety of the castle?”

It was an opening gambit. A minimal offer, just the right side of an insult. The price would be far steeper than this, Snape was sure of it.

So was Marcus. On another night, they would’ve taken their amusement scaring the youngsters then sent them on their way. Probably with an escort. Tonight, well, he had been Chief of the Raven Clan since he founded it, but his power was not absolute; he could not dictate to clan members and at this moment, when he needed political influence within the clan he could not be merciful to outsiders.

The flip side of that problem was his reading of the wizard in front of him. Sharp and intelligent, Severus Snape would deal if possible, but if the pitch was wrong or the price unaffordable, he would fight to the death for his charges and he was capable of inflicting casualties.

“We wear no rank or insignia. It is rare that a mortal, wizard or no, can tell one of us from another. Especially in the dark. Humour me, Severus Snape.” The slight sibilant stress on his name brought a twitch from the kneeling wizard which Corvus filed away for future consideration. “Why do you think I should be the one to hear your entreaties?”

Observations, he could do that. “My Lord. As I approached, I identified a number of vampires around Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. Not all of them were visible but they were all constantly moving in a textbook containing pattern. You were moving too but you were not part of the pattern rather it adapted around you. If you were not the Chief, you had to be the senior council member present. Also, your friend who spoke? He looked to you for permission and you stopped him from engaging further.”

As he was speaking, he felt the vampires shifting again; six of them came forward and arranged themselves around their Chief, the rest fell back to guard the prisoners. The outer guard that he had not seen (anymore than they had seen him) materializing from the shadows.

“Well done, Professor, a shame your students do not appear to have learnt from you.” Ouch that was a bit more of a jab that the vampire had intended. He did not wish confrontation. He berated himself quietly for allowing irritation at revelations of his Clan’s failings to colour the conversation. “I am Marcus Corvus You are correct, I am Chief of the Raven Clan. We share commonality in our praenomens, do we not, Severus? However, unlike you, I was named after an emperor within that emperor’s lifetime.” The voice was mellow and cultured but it was velvet over steel. “Tell me, why I should waive my right to vengeance? Why should the boy’s insults to me and mine go unanswered?”

“Not unanswered, my Lord. Just a proportionate response. He is not of age. He does not come from a wizarding home, neither of them do. He speaks from naught but fear and ignorance.”

“But does not the Wizengamot itself not operate under the motto that ‘ignorance is no excuse’?”

Snape flinched again. Interesting. “Yes, My Lord, but there are mitigating circumstances. Among them the reason we are seeking parley with the Raven Clan tonight.” He risked a glance up at the vampire. Please don’t make me go into this in front of the idiot. He already hates me.

The vampire must have picked up something, because he moved on. “Well, Severus Snape, what can you offer me in lieu of the lives of these ignorant children?”

“Lives!?” Granger squeaks.

“Their lives are forfeit for their trespass under the 1746 Raven-Diggory Treaty.”

“Go for the jugular. Bloody typical vampire.” Snape grouses to himself. He suspects he was overheard, if the female vampire’s snicker is anything to go by.

“My Lord, you are best placed to judge how a wizard might be of assistance to your people. I have brewing skills and healer training. There must be some way I may be of service.” Don’t go big yet, he reminded himself, you’re going to need a fall-back position.

“You don’t want to fight then, Severus? Are you afraid of a mere Dracula-wannabe?”

“I fight if I must, My Lord. And against the odds, I face here? If it be fate that I die today, then so be it, but I would rather find more peaceful means of settling the debt.”

Corvus paused for a moment. Why was Snape so reticent about offering a deal? He was working hard to make the vampire take the initiative. He obviously wanted to make the counter-offer, so his ability to meet terms must be restricted. What had he gleaned about the man? Potions master with administrative duties, operative for a rebel faction of wizards, a man who had recently endured a non-negligible amount of pain and could not call his time his own. Minor wit, major courage and too burdened for a man of so very few years. He smiled at the kneeling wizard. “I have a proposition for you, Severus Snape.”

The other vampires straightened up, listening intently.

“I like the idea of a life for a life, Professor. In this case, I would be willing to stretch a point. After all, these children, they are less than half your age, are they not?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Corvus watches the by-plays. The Clan is divided but most feel that is harsh. The girl is horrified. The boy is oblivious. The man is resigned, almost relieved. That is not good. A man like this should not be ready to lay down and die. “However, talent should never be thrown away, so in payment for the trespass of your students, the Raven Clan requires Severus Snape be indentured unto them for a period of 32 weeks.”

Corvus checks the reactions. The vampires are still divided. He’s not sure whether they think too much, too little or why bother. He will convince them later. Snape’s reaction is not surprising. Relief, anxiety, calculation. More expressions pass across his face in five seconds than have been seen in the entirety of the conversation. He has something to work with.

“My Lord, that is acceptable to me but I will need to fine-tune some details.”

With a raised eyebrow and a wave of his hand, Corvus invites him to continue.

“The first being that Mr. Potter and Miss Granger are returned safely to the doors of Hogwarts immediately. The second being that I be allowed to represent the Order of the Phoenix at the debate tonight, as planned. The third being that should my presence bring danger to the Clan that a suitable alternative might be agreed and the existing contract dissolved. Finally, that you permit me to conduct a sacrifice to Lord and Lady Magic at the boundary stone to ensure that I am not binding myself with conflicting, contradictory oaths.”

Contradictory oaths, release from the deal if he brought danger to the clan? Gods. What had the boy managed to get himself in to that he would consider these as prerequisites? Marcus had no magic beyond his vampiric abilities but he knew the risk of multiple binding oaths, they could physically tear a wizard apart. “We have twenty minutes.”

“That will be more than enough, My Lord.”

“Might I observe?”

“Of, course, My Lord.”

The boundary stone is old. Much older than the boundary it marks. A square, flat-topped altar with a shallow depression at the centre and an abraded Latin text on the side. Marcus automatically translates the dedication amused by the aptness of the re-used stone. “Dedicated to the presiding spirit of the land of Britain,” he murmurs.

“Indeed.”

Severus set to work casting the circle. He hadn’t been raised in any religion. His father preferred spirits to spirituality and while his mother had taught him pureblood tradition, she did not know or did not care for the old religion. He had never taken to the formal, neutered version of the old ways observed in his schooldays at Hogwarts (and Dumbledore had steadily undermined that with Muggle tradition anyway), but as his days darkened and his isolation grew he had taken refuge in ancient rituals researched in the restricted section of the library.

His shock the first time he forged a true connection with Lord and Lady Magic had frozen him to the spot. Why would such exalted beings bother with or respond to him? Whatever the reason, the connection persisted through the shrieking shack, death eaters, Lily’s death, Azkaban and beyond. Often the only light in his darkness, he had never discussed it with anyone. It was blood magic, after all.

Marcus thought he had seen every religious ceremony under the sun but couldn’t remember ever seeing a magical one. Come to think of it, he couldn’t think of a single magical person that he’d met that had the humility to admit the need for the spiritual side of magic. He’d seen them maintain the trappings of religions directly contradicted by their own abilities but not acknowledge or worship their own source of power.

From the first, though, it was apparent that even this simple ceremony was going to be quite special. Severus was moving with a grace and certainty that bespoke complete familiarity. This wasn’t someone who celebrated the major rituals with a set text and a feast. This was the real deal.

The shallow bowl on the altar was filled with water conjured from Severus’s wand, which was then laid on the altar stone beside a flint knife. Long ago Severus had decided that he preferred wandless magic for rituals.  
The candles at the cardinal points of the circle were replaced by conjured glowing spheres, the addition of yellow to the three primary colours giving a warm slightly yellow central spot over the altar while the individual spheres floating just above head height created spots of red, green blue and yellow, creating an illuminated three-dimensional space capped by the half-moon passing through a gap in the canopy, which was also reflected in the altar’s basin.

Marcus felt the forest go still.

Severus stood in front of the altar. “My Lord and Lady, I come before you tonight, as ever in need of guidance and benediction. Forgive your unworthy child and guide him to a better future. Grant me the boon I seek.”

Standing just outside the circle was an amazing experience. Marcus could see it charging, power drawn from the air, the forest, the moon itself, he wasn’t sure, but it built into a cascade that seemed to flow from moon to cardinal points to earth, flooding the floor of the circle before sinking back into the earth below the foundations of the altar. He wondered if Severus saw it as he did.

A careful cut with the flint blade and two drops of blood were added to the basin.

“Father Sun and Mother Moon, day and night, heat and light, hear my plea. I swore oath to protect Lily’s child and I still honour that every day but now I am called to fulfil my vow, I find so doing will take me from the child’s side for many moons. I fear the Lord and Lady’s wrath should harm befall the child while I am absent.”

The words were accompanied by a precise series of gestures which brought into being a multi-coloured, ethereal spider’s web with several focal points and a jumbled mass of interconnecting lines. Surrounding that was a bank of flickering images, faces and events spinning out like old newsreel presentations. One branching, swirling timeline scrolled down the extreme left while another, on the right, tentative and ephemeral, flickered in and out of existence, scrolling forwards and backwards as Severus tweaked the threads of the spider’s web, sometimes gently moving single gossamer threads, other times excising whole nexus points. Finally, Severus seemed happy with the right-hand timeline and froze the tableau.

His words came faster now, inaudible, falling in a stream from barely parted lips. His eyes never leaving the display in front of him he picked up the flint knife and cut his left hand again, deeper than last time. Pausing and cupping the hand as he waited for the blood to pool in his palm, then he knelt, head bowed, at the altar and let the blood fall at the base of the stone.

Marcus was fascinated. The blood never reached the ground; the magic of the circle absorbed it and the vampire fancied he could see traces of red swirling around the base of the altar before they reappeared at the apex of the space and cascaded down to the cardinal points.

He never managed to tear his eyes away from the seductive patterns of magic; instead he found himself blinking and shaking his head to clear it as the light show melted away into the summer night. Severus was back on his feet and had cancelled whatever he had cast within the circle. He summoned the guardian light orbs back to him one at a time and broke them over the altar, watching as they vanished into the stone. Finishing with a simple scourgify, he healed his hand and turned to face Marcus.

The forest breathed again.

“I fear I need to add two more items to our contract.”

The vampire nodded. As if he was going to deny the man anything after that display.

“I need an income. It does not matter what the work is, I have an obligation that will require around 500 galleons per month. Anything above that would obviously go back to the Clan. I also need to be able to respond if Lily’s child gets into trouble. Whatever system we use will not go through Albus Dumbledore. He will abuse the ability to call on me for his own ends.”

“Both acceptable but may I add something of my own? It is personal, so I will not insist.” Marcus raised an eyebrow. Severus just gestured for him to continue. “In eighteen centuries, I have never met any being with such a strong, pure connection to the fabric of magic. Will you share more of your rituals?”

It was rare for Severus to be truly surprised. “I have no objection. Despite what some wizards will try to tell you about ritual magic, it is not particularly dark or depraved.”

“It is beautiful.” Marcus said seriously. “Tell me, can you see the circle as I do?”

“I don’t see the magic of the circle – I think you would need Mage level abilities for that – I can feel it against my skin, taste it in the air. What does it look like?” The statement has been delivered with admirable self-control but the question came out with a quiet longing.

“Magic made visible. The finest, sheerest, shimmering cloth. Fluttering gossamer threads of all colours. A waterfall of raw power falling from the moon.” Marcus rarely had reason allow his tongue to take flight. “The colours and patterns shifted with every word you spoke, absorbed the blood you shed and dissipated into the air as you closed the circle. It was magnificent.” His reply was so reverential that Severus broke one of his most basic rules; he looked up at Marcus and held his gaze.

The moment was lost when the men reacted, almost at the same instant, to the sound of other people approaching.

“Nita, Tony.” The two vampires appeared at his side in an instant. “Escort the children back to Hogwarts. Go to the front gate. Do not breach the wards. Watch them through the front door. They are not to be harmed. Return to the caves as soon as it is done. Send everyone else over to us.”

They bowed and left.

**Author's Note:**

> My use of the comma is atrocious and I am addicted to ellipses...
> 
> I believe in the passive voice.
> 
> I don't have a beta because I already have creative differences with myself. All mistakes are therefore mine.
> 
> Updates will be sporadic because I never met a deadline I didn't stretch beyond breaking point.
> 
> Constructive comments welcome.


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